


Phoenix

by caldera32



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Gen, Resurrection, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-03-31 22:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3995824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caldera32/pseuds/caldera32
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emrys may mean 'immortal', but Merlin finds that translation a bit misleading.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings, readers :) This is my first time posting to AO3, so bear with me, alright?  
> This story will consist of a few contiguous chapters that form the main plot followed by one shots that fill in the details.  
> The first full-length chapter should be up tomorrow, in the meantime please enjoy this intro:

Merlin leaned against the door as he fumbled with the latch, vision blurred and hands numb. He only knew he'd succeeded when his support disappeared, sending him straight to the floor. The infirmary was dark, the hearth fire dead long ago with no one to tend it. Merlin huffed and made a cursory attempt at getting up, barely managing to move his arms.

He'd known it would be dangerous to confront the basilisk when Gaius was away, but he'd had little choice once it started taking people instead of livestock. He'd half-expected to be able to influence it with his dragonlord abilities, seeing as it more or less had a dragon's body, but apparently it was the rooster's head that mattered.

It wasn't as if he'd gone completely unprepared - there was no doubt the ward he wore around his neck had repelled the paralyzing gaze – he simply hadn't expected the thing to have deadly breath as well. His own breath was getting short, which was bound to happen when one's chest seized up.

He could only hope Gaius would return before Arthur came looking for his absent servant.


	2. Chapter 2

The first time it happened Merlin didn't even notice; the second time he started to doubt his own senses. The third time… the third time it was hard to deny.

Gwen had accepted it easily enough; Gaius had obviously been mistaken - Merlin's heartbeat had been too faint, perhaps. But Gaius knew better. Merlin had died; the poison had done its work.

The two had stared at each other for quite some time after Guinevere left, but ultimately Merlin could keep his eyes open no longer and the elder had helped him back to his own bed. Discussion had been put off until the next day, and then the next, and the next… honestly it was just one thing after another in Camelot and the whole thing didn't come up again until a certain druid showed up and called him "Emrys".

"What does that mean, Gaius?" Merlin asked, idly stirring his stew and not looking up at his guardian until the silence dragged on just a moment too long. The elder had staggered back from the table, his own bowl drooping in his hand until Merlin caught it. He flinched in anticipation of a reprimand for using magic so frivolously, but none came. "Gaius?"

The physician shook himself and sank onto the bench.

"You're certain he called you 'Emrys'?"

"Yes… is that bad?" The stew was completely forgotten as Merlin put all his focus on his mentor's response.

"It's… not _bad_ , exactly…"

"Well it certainly doesn't sound that way."

Gaius straightened, pulling out of his dazed thoughts and pinning his ward with a speculative gaze. "It would explain what happened with the Morteus poison."

The warlock swallowed the lump in his throat. He _really_ did not want to know where this was going.

"The druids have prophecies about 'Emrys'; they laud him as the most powerful sorcerer of all time."

"I couldn't possibly-"

"The name means 'immortal'."

Merlin gaped, then frowned. "But I died."

"And yet you're alive."

The two stared at each other for a few heartbeats before Merlin stood and stumbled toward the back room.

"I need some time to think about this."

"Merlin-"

He pulled the door closed, cutting himself off from Gaius and the rest of the world. Climbing onto his desk, he looked out the window until the only light remaining was that of the stars.

Gaius attempted further talk several times in the coming weeks, but a look from Merlin was enough to stop him each time. The boy seemed to be trying his hardest to forget what he had learned. There may have been further incidents based on the set of Merlin's face after certain magical events, but Gaius couldn't pry a word on the matter out of his ward.

It all changed when Arthur was bitten by the questing beast.

Merlin tried to convince him it would be fine for him to give his life for Arthur since he would just revive, but Gaius wasn't so sure - he didn't think Merlin actually believed it either. He was beginning to worry about the boy's recklessness; it seemed as if he were trying to find a permanent solution to his immortality.

In the end it had only been Nimueh who died, and that wasn't the only positive.

"You know, Gaius, I'm beginning to think this may be a gift."

He had remained silent as his ward stared off into space, waiting for Merlin to continue.

"If I had just died, who would save Arthur next week? This way, no one else has to sacrifice themselves."

"Merlin-"

"Well, I know there will be knights and guards who… but if I can save other lives as well, then I can handle this."

It saddened Gaius to see the resignation Merlin had developed, uncertain whether he preferred that or the denial. Still, they soon settled into a routine. Any time Merlin was dying he would hide or make his way to Gaius if possible. Once he'd gone, his magic would restore the body before reviving him. This process was usually quick, but on certain occasions took a bit longer. The physician had made the uncomfortable decision of speeding his ward's passing more than once, heart throbbing in his chest as he waited for Merlin to draw breath. The serkets had been the worst so far, and Gaius could only be glad he hadn't had to watch his boy suffer that.

He had always come back, but Gaius feared a day when he wouldn't.


	3. Chapter 3

"Merlin, are you here?"

When his servant hadn't been present to wake him that morning Arthur had half-expected the man to be out gathering herbs or making Gaius' rounds - the physician was still away from the citadel, training nearby physicians in the treatment of a new illness - but the open door a few steps away suggested otherwise.

There was something in the air that made him hesitant to approach, a sort of heavy stillness.

"Merlin?" His hand found the grip of his sword as he reached the doorway.

His very being stuttered to a halt when he saw the body laid out on the floorboards, still and unresponsive. Then instinct took control and his weapon was out as he took a protective stance over his fallen friend.

"Show yourself!" His eyes flicked about the infirmary, tentative steps taking him toward the back room. "There's nowhere to hide!" He nudged the storeroom door open with his blade and soon saw this space, too, was empty. With no enemy in sight, Arthur sheathed his sword and hastened back to Merlin.

"Oi, dollophead, look at me." He grabbed Merlin's shoulders, managing to keep his reaction to a strained whimper when he found the body as unyielding as a statue. "No…"

He fought the urge to check for a heartbeat, instead focusing on the slight warmth beneath his hands. _Only dead a few hours then._

Arthur ignored the part of his brain telling him what was happening and instead hauled the body over to the cot, stiff limbs sprawling over both sides. The eyelids were half raised so Arthur wet a rag and draped it over Merlin's eyes.

 _You should just close them,_ his traitorous brain whispered.

"What now, Merlin?"

He could only bear the silence of the corpse for a moment before he spun around and began rifling through the things on Gaius' workbench, intentionally being noisy as he searched for a miracle amongst the bottles and parchment. An upset cup spilled water onto the open books and Arthur rushed to save the valuable tomes, sopping up the liquid with his shirt. An illustration caught his attention as he returned the last volume to its place. A strange creature, rooster crossed with dragon, reared its head and stared down a statue on the opposite page. The banner below its feet read "Basilisk" and the description made it clear what had happened to his friend.

_You stupid, brilliant idiot._

He dropped the book and returned to the body, willing himself to accept that that's all it was now; a corpse.

For the past few days there had been strange incidents of livestock going missing but little had been done until the previous day when a father and son disappeared in the woods. The child had turned up a few hours later, completely petrified in death. The knights had thought little of it but it seems Merlin had used that knowledge to identify the creature responsible.

_Merlin must have used up what little sense he had in finding the culprit since he'd then run out and gotten himself killed._

He'd hate himself later for thinking it, but for now the reality of the situation hadn't quite sunk in.

A glimmer on Merlin's chest caught his eye and he reached forward to inspect the glass pendant he found there, recognizing it as the sort superstitious peasants wore to protect against "the evil eye" - whatever that was. He'd never noticed Merlin wearing one before and was at a loss to explain where he could have gotten one - they'd been illegal since the great purge. Not that a few of the older folk didn't still have them, but he doubted any would openly admit to owning one let alone be willing to part with it.

Perhaps it wasn't all superstition, considering Merlin had made it all the way back here before succumbing.

The water from his shirt soaked through his trousers and left wet spots on the elbows he'd been resting on his lap; if it weren't for the discomfort he might have sat there until someone else appeared to tell him this was all a dream.

"Guards," his voice cracked and he cleared his throat before trying again. "Guards!"

He heard clanking on the staircase and two men appeared in the corridor.

"Sire?"

"Fetch Gaius; he should be returning today - look for him on the road."

The pair cast a quick glance at the scene in front of them before leaving their sovereign alone with his grief.


	4. Chapter 4

“Sire?” Gaius bustled into his chambers and was met with complete silence, the stony form of his surrogate son alone in the space. Frowning, the physician dropped his travel gear and bent over Merlin, checking for some hint as to what had happened.  
  
The warlock was completely stiff but still warm - though it had been several hours since an escort had met him on the road. Gaius pressed an ear to his chest and eventually heard a faint beat. Merlin was still alive.  
  
“What happened, my boy?” he muttered, shuffling over to his shelves. A faint sob sent him whirling around, but Merlin had not moved. “Who’s there?”  
  
Silence had fallen once again but Gaius had an inkling of where the sound had originated.  
  
He opened the door to Merlin’s room, moving slowly to stand before the monarch huddled in the corner.  
  
“Sire, are you injured?”  
  
The king’s face was tucked behind his knees but Gaius could still hear a few sniffles as Arthur shook his head, surreptitiously wiping tears onto his trousers.  
  
“Merlin…” His voice was a muffled moan. “I’m sorry, Gaius, he was already gone when I found him.”  
  
“Sire… Merlin isn’t dead.”  
  
“What?” Arthur straightened with no thought given to his red eyes or tear-stained face.  
  
“Merlin lives.”  
  
“But- the basilisk... how?” He used the desk to pull himself up, stumbling toward the main chamber.  
  
“Basilisk?” Gaius examined his sovereign with concern. “Perhaps you ought to tell me what happened.”  
  
“I can only guess, Gaius.” Arthur knelt by Merlin’s cot, feeling his pulse for the first time since finding him collapsed. “He was on the floor in the doorway, just as you see him now. I thought… and I found a book open-” he gestured toward the workbench. “Will he be alright?”  
  
The elder surveyed the book in question, bringing it with him as he reevaluated his surrogate son.  
  
“He must have- ah!” The physician located the ward around Merlin’s neck. “This charm is what saved him from the basilisk’s gaze, which means he must have been afflicted by its breath. While he is entirely paralyzed, he will recover so long as we can reverse the process before he dies of thirst.”   
  
This was false. Merlin should have suffocated long ago but his magic must be fighting the beast’s curse. It would have been far better for him if he’d just been able to die, Gaius lamented.  
  
“I will begin work on a potion that should aid him.” He placed a fatherly hand on Arthur's shoulder. “You should get some rest, Sire. It is late.”  
  
Arthur looked out the window and was startled to find the sky had grown dark. Where had the time gone?  
  
“I-”  
  
Gaius' eyebrow started to rise.  
  
“Very well, Gaius. Keep me informed of his condition.”  
  
The physician nodded absently, sifting through his bottles as Arthur hesitated for a few moments more before drifting out.


	5. Chapter 5

He really had tried to sleep. He'd gotten into bed, wrapped his arms around Guinevere – who'd already been asleep – and closed his eyes. Sleep just wasn't coming.  
  
The dark silence of his chambers felt like a physical weight pressing him into the mattress, the force just barely insufficient to crush him. The metallic sound of a guard shifting in place outside his door shattered the oppressive atmosphere that had held him in thrall and he rolled out of bed, careful to not disturb his wife. Slipping on a pair of boots he crept into the hallway.  
  
"Your Majesty, is there something you require?" One guard asked whilst the other bowed.  
  
Arthur waved them off, marching down the hall as if he could leave his oppressive thoughts behind by moving quickly.  
  
_What if Gaius is wrong? Lords, what if Merlin is already dead?_  
  
He raised his pace, taking the stairs two at a time as he climbed the tower to the infirmary.  
  
_Why did anyone ever think is was a good idea to make it so inconvenient to reach the court physician?_  
  
Half-formed ideas of permanently moving Gaius to the seldom-used privy council chambers were wiped from his mind as he reached his destination and saw the old man bending over his patient.  
  
"You've made the cure, then?"  
  
Gaius startled, spilling the spoonful of liquid he'd been about to drip under Merlin's tongue.  
  
"Sire!" He hastily wiped the mess from Merlin's chin. "I thought you'd gone to rest."  
  
"I... I couldn't sleep – that wasn't all you had, was it?" What if he had just sealed Merlin's fate?  
  
"No, of course not." He made a vague gesture at a pot simmering over the hearth. "I'll fetch you a sleeping draught."  
  
"That won't be necessary, Gaius – now that you have the cure I'll just stay here." Arthur pulled up a stool and sat beside the cot.  
  
"Sire, Merlin won't wake before the morning; it would be best if you came back then." The physician plucked a vial from his shelves as Arthur's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Why was Gaius so insistent on him leaving?  
  
A bundle of green and white on the workbench caught his gaze and he froze.  
  
"Gaius, why were you cutting up hemlock?"  
  
"Hm?" The physician turned and nonchalantly surveyed the plant in question. "Oh, that's wild carrot, Sire. It has several beneficial properties, especially the small purple flower in the center of the white ones. They do look similar, but-"  
  
"You taught me the differences yourself, Gaius." The king rose from his seat, subconsciously interposing himself between Merlin and his mentor. "What are you hiding?"  
  
He reached for his sword before realizing he hadn't brought one.  
  
"Have you been possessed again?"  
  
Gaius raised his hands in surrender, tone placating as he responded.  
  
"Sire, this is simply an misunderstanding. Please, allow me to explain."  
  
"Speak." Arthur's tone was hard and he did not relax from his defensive stance.  
  
"You see, Sire, the basilisk's breath imparts a curse that cannot be removed until the victim has died – but if we can simulate death, then it will dissipate on its own."  
  
"So you're just going to poison him?" Arthur was trying to control himself, but his voice was inching closer and closer toward shrieking.  
  
"It is the most painless way. I will not give him a lethal dose; I assure you he will recover with no ill effects."  
  
Gaius' calm demeanor did nothing to help his own rising emotions and Arthur clutched his head, hair standing up at odd angles as he turned to look at his fallen friend.  
  
"What about that potion you gave me, the one with the antidote you can administer within a half hour?"  
  
"I'm afraid I don't have the necessary ingredients and we really don't have the time to pursue that course. Please, Sire, he's suffering."  
  
He sounded so sincere and distressed that Arthur stepped aside before considering what he was doing and Gaius quickly crossed to the hearth, dipped a spoon into the pot of poison and administered it to his ward.  
  
Arthur attempted to swallow the lump in his throat.  
  
"What happens now?"  
  
"Now we wait." Gaius pulled his own cot closer and sat on the edge, wetting and replacing the cloth covering Merlin's eyes. "Once his body goes limp we will know it has worked. He should be recovered after a day's rest." _Probably less._  
  
Arthur reclaimed the stool, wrapping one hand around Merlin's wrist so he could feel the faint pulse, and settled in for the wait.  
  
~*~  
  
The king's thoughts had been reduced to a simple count of heartbeats. He didn't even notice he'd been staring into space until a slight tremor ran through Merlin's body and transferred into his own.  
  
"Gaius?"  
  
The old man snorted in his sleep and rolled over. How long had they been sitting there?  
  
Another, more violent, tremor wracked the servant's frame after which he fell slack, limbs dangling over the edges of the bed.  
  
"Merlin?" Arthur tightened his grip and, no longer certain if the pulse he felt was Merlin's or his own, pressed an ear to his chest. Time crawled by as Arthur begged for some sign of life from his friend, but there was no beat, no breath, no movement.

* * *

  
"Gaius... Gaius!"  
  
The physician jerked awake, confused at the realization that he had been asleep.  
  
"Gaius, help him!" Arthur's eyes were wide with panic and the elder rushed to his ward's side, knowing what he would find.  
  
Just as he reached the pair Merlin took a deep breath, mouth open wide, and coughed out a faint golden mist. Gaius could only hope this had gone unnoticed along with the glowing eyes that were obscured by cloth.  
  
The physician placed a hand on his boy's chest and smoothed back his hair, murmuring reassurances as Merlin settled into proper sleep.  
  
"He'll sleep well into morning," he informed the shocked monarch. "It's best if he remains undisturbed."  
  
Gaius wasn't sure if he should be relieved or worried when Arthur nodded and left without protest.


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur laid in bed, staring at the canopy until the sun rose and George slipped in with four trays of breakfast. All of them were laid out on the table before the man even realized his master was awake.  
  
Arthur dismissed him with a wave of his hand, he'd not changed out of yesterday's clothes but a simple swapping of tunics would disguise that fact and he certainly didn't need George bowing and scraping about in the meantime.  
  
He eased himself off the mattress and Guinevere stirred, rolling over and gazing at him with sleep-hazed eyes.  
  
“Morning, love,” she murmured. Her gentle smile seemed surreal through the fog of confusion that gripped him.  
  
Kissing her absently, a connection started to form in his mind.  
  
“Guinevere, that time you, ah... with Merlin and the poison...” He blushed at the memory. Guinevere had told him about the kiss before they were married; he'd avoided looking at Merlin for a week after that revelation.  
  
“Arthur?” She frowned in confusion, sitting up a bit.  
  
“When he... woke up. Did you see anything strange?” He looked away, trying to act nonchalant.  
  
“I wasn't really looking... I think Gaius and I were hugging, actually.” The suspicious glint in her eye told Arthur he'd failed at being subtle. “What's this about?”  
  
“Oh, nothing... just a...” he cleared his throat, moving to the table and sitting even though he had no appetite. “Merlin was injured yesterday, but he's alright. Gaius just wants him to rest today – no visitors.”  
  
He's not sure why he wants Guinevere to stay away, but the whole thing is discomfiting and unusual and why does he even have to have these kinds of thoughts?  
  
“What happened?” She was out of the bed and by his side in moments, concern radiating from her in waves and making him feel even more of a cad for whatever vague suspicions were forming in the back of his brain.  
  
“I'm not entirely sure - in fact, I should begin the investigation.” He stood abruptly and left, forgoing his change of clothes in favor of avoiding further questions. Guinevere only had time for an exasperated huff before he was out the door.  
  
~*~  
  
Somehow no one had noticed Merlin returning the previous day, despite his impairment, but his journey out was easy enough to follow. Several guards and shopkeepers had seen him leaving the city with a shield on one arm. None of them had stopped to talk to him, however, assuming he was on an errand for the king.  
  
Once he was outside the walls, he could only assume Merlin had visited the farm from whence the victims had come. Going there first was certainly a better course than trying to find tracks in the hard-packed earth of the road.  
  
After a short walk and a few questions Arthur learned that Merlin had come there yesterday, inquiring about where the missing persons had been headed and where the boy had been found before following their path. Arthur did likewise.  
  
As unnatural silence fell, he cursed himself for leaving without so much as a sword or one scrap of armor. Honestly, at least Merlin had brought a shield.  
  
He crept forward, tension rising with every step until he reached a clearing.  
  
The basilisk was standing on the edge – dead, if the flies buzzing about its face were any indication. Still, he wasn't willing to confront the thing without being certain.  
  
Gathering up some rocks, Arthur proceeded to pelt its unyielding hide. Projectiles bounced off beak, legs, and tail before he approached.  
  
“What happened here?” He murmured, surveying the creature. A glint caught his eye and Arthur followed it, finding the shield Merlin must have brought. It had been polished until he could see himself in it, making its purpose clear - Gaius' book had mentioned that the creature could be paralyzed by its own reflection.  
  
“Merlin, you are such a...” actually, he wasn't sure how to finish that sentence any more.  
  
Arthur sat on the ground, staring at his image on the shield's surface without really seeing, letting his mind go blank. Once his eyes started burning he looked away, gaze drifting about the clearing.  
  
“What...” a disturbance in the wild flowers caught his attention and he moved to investigate, finding deep gouges in the earth that must line up with the basilisk's powerful claws. Looking about he found more destruction - a tree cracked in half, an uprooted boulder – clear signs the creature hadn't given in without a fight. How had Merlin survived?  
  
Arthur snorted. That was the problem, wasn't it? He hadn't. Merlin had died.  
  
Initially he'd thought Gaius might have done something – he had been a sorcerer, after all – but that seemed less likely than the conclusions he was trying very hard to keep his brain from reaching.  
  
Still, even if Merlin did have magic (no, no; don't even think it) there was still no explanation for his miraculous resurrection.  
  
His lips twitched. Miraculous.  
  
In his most unguarded moments, Arthur had occasionally wondered if Merlin was some sort of angel sent to keep him on the right path. The youngest, most inept angel, of course - probably sent to receive guidance as much as provide it. The whole thing was ludicrous and he'd laughed about it more than once.  
  
“I'm happy to be your servant 'til the day I die.”  
  
Perhaps he'd made some sort of deal? Arthur still remembered the faint betrayal he had felt when he'd learned that Merlin had abandoned him while he lay dying from the questing beast's bite – and then again right after he'd professed his undying loyalty in a way that sounded suspiciously like a goodbye.  
  
He certainly wouldn't put it past that idiot to get in over his head and wind up selling his soul to some arcane being.  
  
The sun was high in the sky by the time Arthur pulled himself out of his musings. Honestly, he was at the point where he couldn't even tell if he was being ridiculous anymore. Only one thing he could do now, really.  
  
Sighing heavily, he dragged himself up from the ground and returned home.


	7. Chapter 7

Arthur stood in the doorway, watching as Gaius helped Merlin sit up to eat. The younger man's hair stuck out in all directions and his movements were stilted by lingering stiffness. His mind, also, seemed to be moving a bit slow – it took several moments before Merlin remembered what to do with the bowl and spoon in his hands.

Spotting the eavesdropper, Gaius murmured something in his ward's ear and patted his shoulder before picking up a basket and heading for the door. Arthur stepped inside to get out of his way.

"Try not to agitate him, Sire." Gaius gave him that world-weary look that always made Arthur feel obligated to behave.

"Of course, Gaius."

And the two of them were alone.

Arthur sat beside the cot where Merlin was propped up, slowly lifting a spoonful of broth to his mouth. He got nearly all the way there before spilling it on his blankets. The king would have laughed if he hadn't been too occupied with trying to find a way to start this conversation.

Merlin was still frowning fiercely at his meal when Arthur decided to just go with whatever popped out first.

"Are you an angel?" _Maybe not the_ best _start._

Merlin blinked.

"You're ridiculous."

_But not the worst._

Arthur snorted. That was exactly what he needed to hear and it put a smile on both of their faces.

"Honestly, Arthur. What's on your mind?" Merlin struggled to sit up straighter and see the king eye-to-eye.

He had that look about him, the one that usually preceded the odd bout of wisdom or strangely insightful heart-to-heart talks – or maybe it was just drowsy confusion.

"About what happened..." Arthur shifted uncomfortably as his friend waited for him to continue. "I... saw."

Merlin blinked again, cocking his head. "Saw what?"

"The magic, Merlin."

"The what?" His eyebrows bunched together and he sounded rather offended. Arthur almost doubted his conclusions, but he _had_ seen it.

"The _magic_. I know it was you who killed the basilisk."

"Oh, that-"

"And _I felt you die_ _and come back to life._ "

Merlin just seemed to stop; he stared at Arthur with unseeing eyes, the bowl fell out of his lax grip and splashed broth across the floor.

"Merlin?"

A spark of fear tainted the younger man's expression, but still he did not move.

"Merlin, I'm not going to hurt you; I just want to understand."

He'd not for a moment considered that Merlin had any ill intentions. He might have hidden his magic and his actions, but there was no way the man could hide his very nature. Merlin's lies had always been obvious, Arthur had simply never seen fit to press him – well, most of the time. He trusted Merlin, then and now; it hadn't seemed important that he had secrets – everyone does.

"Did Gaius teach you?" That would make sense considering all the times Gaius had counseled that only magic could counteract the various threats to Camelot and her people.

"N-no." Merlin's head jerked back and forth, the fear growing.

Arthur huffed in annoyance.

" _Merlin,_ I swear that neither you nor Gaius will be harmed. _I know you,_ Merlin. Whatever you've done, I'm sure you were only trying to help." He placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.

Hysterical laughter burst from Merlin, though he quickly suppressed it.

"Are you alright?" Arthur stared at the man who seemed to have reached his wit's end.

"I should be asking you that!" Merlin's voice was rather more high-pitched than usual. "You find out that your- that _I'm_ magic, and all you want to know is who taught me?"

"Well, I'd like to know more than that, but it seemed like a good starting point." Arthur was doing his best to be the reasonable one here, but Merlin's continued tension was frustrating.

His servant took a deep breath, easing himself back onto the blanket rolls and pillows propping him up.

"I was born with it."

_What?_ That wasn't something he'd even thought possible.

"I wasn't taught, really; it just sort of... happened."

Merlin spoke as if this wasn't something remarkable while Arthur was struck dumb.

"My mother... she sent me to Gaius to learn to contain it," he snorted, "instead I've wound up using it more than ever."

"You-" Arthur paused to clear his throat. "You're powerful, then?"

Merlin had always had a recklessness about him, perhaps this was why.

"Ehm, I suppose." He looked away, suddenly fascinated by the weave of his blanket.

"Is that how you... survived?"

Merlin's eyes flashed up to meet his for only a moment before moving to the door as if trying to call Gaius back. Though, maybe he _was_ calling... would he be able to tell?

"No, that's just me. I'm not... normal."

Arthur snorted.

" _That_ , Merlin, is something I _never_ thought you were."

A wobbly smile formed in response to that statement, but fell soon after.

"A, ehm, _friend_ of mine says it's because I am a- a creature of magic. That I _am_ magic."

"A sorcerer friend?" Sounded like a questionable explanation to him.

"Not exactly, but, in a way, I suppose..."

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Right. Well, what did he mean?"

"Honestly?" Merlin finally met his eyes, a helpless sort of chuckle underscoring his words. "I never really know what he's saying."

They stared each other, lips twitching until they both burst into laughter. Neither understood why it was happening but they couldn't stop, laughing until Arthur was half-lying across Merlin's legs and both were breathless, clutching their sides.

Once they'd finally calmed down, Merlin wiped the tears from his eyes and exhaled heavily.

"So what are you going to do?"

Arthur straightened in his seat, only briefly looking at his friend.

"I'd like to discuss this with Guinevere, if you don't mind."

"Well-"

"I'm going to need her full support if we're to bring this before the council."

Merlin froze. "Arthur-"

"It'll be difficult to convince some of them to do the work necessary to start legalizing magic, but I doubt that most of them have any true objections to anything that doesn't cost them gold."

Arthur had never seen his companion speechless so many times in his entire acquaintance with the man. It felt good, getting the upper hand without ordering Merlin to silence. As for repealing the ban, the state of magic in his kingdom had long been on his mind - this was just the final push he needed to take action.

"I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything, Merlin!" Arthur slapped his knees with both hands and pushed himself upright. "Just get some rest."

He nearly made it to the door before Merlin found his tongue.

"Thank you, Arthur."

He stopped walking but didn't turn.

"I don't need to be thanked for doing what's right."

Arthur ignored the sniffling the door didn't quite block out as he closed it. Gaius stood in the corridor, an uncharacteristically bright smile revealing the elder had been listening in.

"Take care of him, Gaius."

"Of course, Sire."

Arthur clapped the physician's shoulders, then strode toward his chambers, purpose lighting his eyes.

He had a proposal to draft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus ends of the main storyline - for now, at least. I may add an epilogue of sorts after my supplemental chapters (which will be oneshots covering Merlin's various "deaths"). Hope you enjoyed!


	8. The First Time

Merlin rubbed his hands together, though that had long since ceased to make a difference. The snow had been harsh enough on its own but now that the wind had started blowing it was impossible to feel anything aside from the biting cold – swiftly transforming into numbness.

He wanted to go home, but he knew what waited for him there.

His mother was starving to death. He should have noticed that she was eating less and less - probably nothing at all when he wasn't looking. It was his fault too. He'd just been so _hungry_ lately and didn't realize he'd been eating more... he cursed the growth spurts that had made him shoot up so that he was now taller than his mother. It was nice to be the tallest among the village lads – it certainly cut down on the bullying – but it wasn't worth this.

Snot had frozen on his upper lip and he scrunched his face to dislodge it, not willing to remove his hands from his armpits.

It was unlikely he'd find anything edible out here in the middle of a blizzard – and the other villagers certainly wouldn't be willing to let the cold in just to hear the begging of the village bastard – but he had to find something. It was times like these he really wished he knew how to use his magic. His mother had kept him home for a week the last time he'd mentioned it, but that didn't stop the thoughts from coming.

One boot caught in the mud underneath the snow and he lost his balance, tumbling into a drift and wrenching his ankle. Could nothing go right?

He lay there until the flakes had started to clog his eyelashes, then fought his way upright.

There had to be _something_...

_The caves_.

Of course! Surely some creature will have taken shelter in the caves, or if not then he could find fungus or possibly some vegetation around the entrance. It was a bit of a trek in this weather, but it was his only hope.

He trudged through the ever-deepening snow, hunching in on himself until he was hardly looking where he was going – in fact, he walked into trees more than once. When he finally stumbled into the cave opening it was like waking from a dream.

Merlin staggered at the sudden lack of resistance to his plodding feet and hugged the rock wall for a few moments, not quite remembering how he'd gotten to this place. A hardy fern growing near his foot reminded him of his mission and he set to foraging as quickly as his frozen limbs allowed.

There was a patch of mushrooms he knew of further into the cave system and as he moved he could feel himself thawing out. The steady cave temperatures, though cool in the spring and summer, felt warm to him now and the snow on his clothes and hair melted.

Once he'd gathered all he could carry – including a bird he'd found hiding among the tree roots penetrating the walls – he looped his satchel over his head and shoulder, shuffling toward the exit.

He _really_ did not want to go back out there, but if he tarried any longer it would get dark and how would he feel if his mother died because he didn't want to get cold?

Cupping hands over his mouth and nose, he blew a few warm breaths onto his tingling face before braving the storm once more.

This had been a very bad idea.

It felt even colder now and the melted snow soaking him soon became ice. His precious cargo seemed to drag him down even when it wasn't catching on obstacles hidden in snow, and his feet seemed incapable of anything faster than an unsteady plodding. He would have been alarmed if he wasn't already past all feeling.

It was impossible to tell how long he'd been going in the strange dimness of the weather, but he was certain he should have made it to his destination by now. Where was he going?

_Just put one foot in front of the other._

Head down, he devoted all focus to his legs until all awareness faded.

...

Something was different. His legs. He couldn't see his legs anymore. Why was that?

He tilted his head and got snow up his nose, but didn't know why until he realized he was lying down.

Actually, it kind of felt as if he were floating on a cloud. He couldn't sense any pressure on his body, didn't feel the cold and wet that his hazy mind had forgotten, and there was a fluffy whiteness all around him.

Seeing no reason not to, Merlin curled up and fell asleep.

* * *

It was the cold that woke him – which was odd since he'd stopped feeling that long ago. Still, he felt almost... _warm_ now...

Shrugging it off as a bit of instinctual magic that really should have manifested a bit sooner, he pulled himself out of the snowbank he must have fallen into and marched on with renewed vigor.

Nothing could stop him from saving his mother.


	9. The Second Time

Camelot. He was excited and frightened at the same time. His mother assured him that Gaius would take good care of him, but that was all she had said apart from the familiar mantra of "keep it secret".

This whole thing was an overreaction, really – Will would never tell anyone about his magic – but he'd not argued. Ealdor felt smaller with each passing year, and by leaving he might be able to help his mother with more than just the chores. Surely a city such as Camelot would hold many wonders; he may even be able to find some books! He'd not had anything to read aside from the small stack of parchment with verses and adages his mother had used to teach him. Occasionally a neighbor would ask him or Hunith to write a letter on their behalf, but it wasn't the same.

What he really wanted to read now was the letter his mother had written for him to give to Gaius. What was she telling the old man? Would he know about the magic? But the letter was sealed so he let it be; no way to know how his new guardian would react if his meddling were detected.

Merlin stood on the ridge of Ascetir and looked out at the forest below and mountains beyond. He'd come here before - several times since he'd first stumbled out of the caves he'd been exploring and seen the marvelous view – but it felt different this time. This time he would actually be _going_ to those places he'd only fantasized about. He inched up to the very edge of the rock and breathed deeply, feeling the breeze and imagining he was soaring.

Yes, he'd heard that Camelot's king hated magic, but surely he wouldn't look twice at a skinny peasant. In fact, Merlin would probably never even see a royal up close – even if Gaius did live in the castle.

"You there, boy!"

Merlin was startled out of his dreams of what a castle would be like and turned to see three men with clubs watching him.

"Hand over that pack," the one in front pointed with his weapon.

That pack held nearly all of his meager possessions, but the letter was stuck in his belt and living with only one set of clothing was better than not living at all. He fumbled with the straps, getting his jacket stuck in one and then catching it on his belt. The pack shifted, putting him off balance, and when the bedroll started falling out he reached for it without thinking.

"Oi!"

The would-be robbers started forward as he tipped and all four of them shouted when he fell over the edge, arms too tangled to be of help.

The rocky slope a short distance below saved him from a freefall into the valley, but knocked his breath and any thoughts of magic right out of him as he tumbled swiftly down. His body caught on a protruding branch and he lay there confused until the debris he'd dislodged caught up and knocked him off. The second cliff was a surprise – not that he could have done anything about it in his current state – and he had a brief moment of flight before the trees interfered.

* * *

 

He woke with the echo of a _crack!_ in his ears, looking straight up into the canopy of a lush forest. Several broken branches dangled above him and he hastened to move before any decided to fall.

It took him a moment to realize how impossible that movement should have been.

Merlin patted himself down, checking carefully wherever there were rips in his clothing, but found no injuries.

_What..._

He looked up again, spotting his pack dangling from a tree right before the damaged branch gave up and fell to earth.

His magic hadn't helped him during the fall; he knew that. It _may_ have been able to heal some small injuries – he'd never had success in fixing anything major, and no success at all in healing when he tried to – but this was unfathomable.

Ignoring the churning in his stomach and firmly averting his eyes from the far-off ridge and cliff, Merlin told himself it simply hadn't been as bad as he'd thought and retrieved his pack.

If nothing else, he'd saved a lot of travel time.


End file.
